The Dark Inside
by SedoUmbra
Summary: Nisseth couldn't summon a flicker of a flame nor enough lightning to tickle a small rat, but he later discovers that he is an adept at dabbling in magics that are frowned upon on Mundus. Everything in his life changes in an instant but the things still don't slot together properly.
1. The Blank

Chapter 1: The Whispers

Nisseth was never good at magic. His siblings made fun of him. His parents were Nords. His parents had adopted all of their children, because of this Nisseth had an Altmer brother, a Bosmer brother, an Orsimer sister and a Breton sister. All of them could at least cast a Firebolt, Nisseth could do nothing. He couldn't even get a flame to flicker. Nisseth himself was a Dunmer, so it was very surprising that he didn't have an aptitude for Fire Magic. A raspy voice whispered in his head with a slight echo, he couldn't make out what they were saying, it sounded like distant conversation. Sometimes it spoke to him and he could understand it perfectly. "You have double of their potential – no, even more than that. If they can cast a Firebolt you can dry up an ocean." This scared Nisseth. He started crying.

"For gods' sakes stop bloody crying! You are 12 years old now!" It took a while for Nisseth to calm down. He almost started crying again when Ygrag, his Orsimer sister, and Ymarri, his Altmer brother started teasing him.

"Ignore those fools, they will be gone soon enough, bid farewell." The voice laughed.

"Good bye." He said to his mean siblings. They looked at each other and then laughed.

That night lighting illuminated the house through the windows and the thunder shook the floors. "Right off to bed, the lot of ya. Go, right now. Time to go to bed." Nisseth's father, Eorlund, was cheery, but it annoyed Nisseth that he said the same thing many times, but said it a different way each time.

"Do not worry, child, he will leave you alone. Without knowing the consequences he will in fact punish himself." This spooked Nisseth more than the weather, he thought back to what it said about Ymarri and Ygrag, was this voice giving him prophecies or riddles about his family dying?

Nisseth climbed into bed. He shared his room with Ymarri. Ygrag walked in. "Nisseth, are you a wake? Nisseth?" He didn't reply. He was awake but pretended he wasn't. "OK, Ymarri, ready to go?" She whispered.

"I've been waiting all day." He said with an invisible smile. They climbed out through a hole in the wall being used as a window. Their feet crunched the soft leaves and twigs beneath their feet. "Haha! Free of that torture!" Ymarri cried out when he was a good few hundred metres away; he must have thought the house was out of ear shot. Nisseth thought for a moment… but he was interrupted.

"Just as I promised you child, they are gone. Do not expect to see them back. You are my vessel and I will eliminate anything that I foresee to bring you any harm at all." Nisseth was relieved. His siblings weren't going to die, just get up and leave. Maybe his dad wasn't going to die either…maybe…

At 03:00 the next morning his dad shouted through the house. "Where is Ygrag!? Everyone get up, up now. Up y'all get." He burst through Nisseth's door and woke him up. "And where in Oblivion is Ymarri? Mother of Nords!" Nisseth rolled over to his belly and buried his face in his lumpy pillow. "Oh, no mister. I don't believe for one second that you can be in the same room as Ymarri and not realise him just vanish." He grabbed Nisseth's arm which was hanging from the bed and hoisted it up. Nisseth was lifted out of the bed, his bare feet were hanging a few centimetres from the floor, Eorlund dropped him. He fell to his knees. "Get up! Up ya get!" Nisseth was only wearing the rags that covered his groin that he slept in. He had weird, thick lines all over his body that were barely visible through his dark, grey skin.

"Eorlund, do you have to be so harsh? He is only a child." Nisseth's mother, Camilla, said. Eorlund calmed down. He pulled up two chairs. He sat on one and ordered Nisseth to sit on the other.

"Now, you are going to tell me everything that happened, or you are going to pray to Kyne that I don't-"

"Eorlund, stop it!" Camilla shouted. Eorlund sighed.

"What happened?" He asked Nisseth calmly.

"I don't know." He replied.

"What do you mean you 'don't know'?"

"I didn't see or hear Ymarri at all in the night so I have no idea what he did – I was asleep."

"How come he didn't wake you? Yer a light sleeper, had the door opened once you would have been awake."

"Maybe it didn't." Eorlund sighed; he felt his anger building up again.

"If the door didn't open then how do you think he could have escaped?"

"I don't know." Eorlund started tap his boot quickly on the floor.

"No more games, Nisseth, tell me what happened. You aren't in trouble here, Ygrag and Ymarri have disappeared, if they ran off then they are in trouble, not you. So, you didn't see or hear Ymarri or Ygrag at all after you went to bed?"

"Maybe they were kidnapped?" Camilla suggested but she didn't believe it.

"No paedophile steals a 17 year old and a 15 year old in 2 different rooms and leaves a 12 year old to sleep."

"Maybe they don't like Dunmer." She said.

"OK, enough of this. Nisseth, I know you know something. Kyne has told me, you have 5 minutes to write down exactly what happened or I'll punish you until you wish to be unborn." He stormed out of the room. Camilla went outside to check on her wheat.

"Give him the truth and you're free for a day, come tomorrow morn' and forever you will pay. Don't write a word and you're tortured for a day, come tomorrow morn' and the pain will go away." The Whisperer spoke to him in hushed tones. He didn't know what to do because he had no idea of what the Whisperer meant. He decided not to write anything as the lack of pain and end of torment sounded promising. When his dad returned and saw there was no page he almost exploded.

"OK then, punishment is it. Kyne have mercy or his soul." He grabbed Nisseth by his long, black hair and dragged him through the house. He opened the cellar's hatch and threw him down. It was a vertical drop of about 6 metres. The cellar was never. There were Skeevers the size of large dogs and spiders that were so big that each foot step sounded human. Nisseth fell into the foot-deep, putrid water. He got up choking and coughing. The hatch closed stealing his only light away. He heard the bolt slide across. His dad shouted down to him.

"You can come out when you are ready to tell me the truth. Mind the Skeevers." Nisseth kneeled in the muddy water; if he sat it would have covered his mouth and nose. It was cold and thick; bits of food and rotting flesh were floating around in it. He threw up and added last night's dinner to the mixture. He was too scared to cry. It was pitch black and the cellar led into a massive cave. He started to calm down until he heard splashing up ahead. It was the kind of splashing a human might make if he jumped into a pool, but it was continuous. It almost sounded as if was a small waterfall. It got closer. It was moving quickly. Nisseth guessed there was only about 100 metres left between him and the splashes. It got closer and his fear turned to panic; he could hear its long hairy legs rubbing against each other. It was a Giant Frostbite Spider. He knew he was dead. He had no way to defend himself, or even see it.

"It does not know you are there, relax." Said the Whisperer. Nisseth calmed his breathing and when it was almost on top of him he stopped breathing all together. He counted the seconds fighting the urge to breathe. The Frostbite Spider walked into him. One of its legs hit him on the chest and pushed him under water. He felt his ribs getting crushed. Even if it hadn't known he was there, it must now. But the Frostbite Spider walked on as if he hadn't been there. "You are my vessel. You will be safe." The whispers sounded weirder – they sounded stronger. There was a slight whistling in the background when it spoke now. "Continue through the cave, I will guide you." Nisseth burst through the surface spluttering and clutching his chest. As soon as he was able to he started walking through the cellar. He went where the Whisperer asked and the deeper he went in the deeper the water got. It was now up to his chest. "Turn left. Walk." Nisseth obeyed. The water's temperature started to drop. "There are nasty Skeevers here, they will bite and claw at you but will never break the surface while you are in eye-sight." As if on cue and a sharp pain went down the side of his thigh. He almost collapsed in pain. "Ignore it, keep going." The water was now up to his neck. Slashes started appearing in his chest. He was sure the filthy water would infect all of his wounds. He pushed on. A large claw – larger than all of the others put together – hit him in the side of his ribcage, it yanked down and left a large gash 3 centimetres deep and leading from his chest down to his thigh. He winced and almost screamed but the pain almost completely went away. He felt his whole chest go numb from the cold. He stepped on a stone and a dull pain was sent up his leg. "Walk on." He did. The water was over his mouth. "Now swim." He stopped for a second. "You are almost at the end. There is an overhanging rock, you will hit your head if you don't swim and hug the ground." He dived under water and started to swim. The second he did this the Skeevers bolted away. After a few seconds he saw light. It was getting through the cracks of a broken door. It was his way out. "You must go deeper or you will knock yourself out and drown." He obeyed even though he couldn't see a rock. He went deeper and deeper, fighting against the will to breathe and then the water shifted around him. It pulled him down. He trashed about. The Whisperer had tricked him. It laughed in his head. "You are mine now, come to me child and start your life anew." It stopped speaking. He was pulled deeper and deeper. He felt rocks scraping against his legs and arms. He gasped for breath and vile water went into his mouth. He threw up but the vomit was pushed back down his throat by the water. He started choking on his own vomit and then his head hit a rock. He lost consciousness.

He woke up. He was floating up a river. It smelled worse than down in the cellar. It wasn't black/brown with floating bits of flesh or food. It was blood-red with floating skeletons and bones. 2 things amazed him; the first was that although he was in a cave he could see as if he was outside, the second was that he was alive. How? He asked himself. He had infected cuts all over his body and lost consciousness while being sucked under water. He came to the end of the river. He crawled out. He stood up. Had he dreamed all of this? Was he dreaming now? All of the cuts were gone. His skin was perfect. His skin was a lighter shade of grey and the weird lines on his skin were more vivid. He was still naked from when the massive 'thing' under the water that tore into his left side. He walked about the seemingly empty cave. He found a door. Despite the heat in the room the door was freezing. It was made from bones. He pushed it open. "Ah, my new apprentice!" A strange man beamed. He had wispy, grey hair that instead of going down his back split and went over each shoulder. He wore strange black robes with weird designs that had red swirls and designs. "Better get you into some clothes." He had a staff. It was a simple black staff with bones spiralling up around it. At the top of it there were 2 skeletal hands grasping a sphere of green-black energy. He tapped the bottom of it into the ground and black, smoke-y swirls surrounded Nisseth and the slowly dissipated to reveal a smaller black robe similar to the Whisperer's just without the red designs. "You have much to learn, but you will learn quickly. You will learn faster out of Mundus. Follow me. Your life is only starting now." The man walked through a door. Nisseth followed slowly trying not to trip over his robe with each step.

He went through the door and saw a large room. There were hundreds of people wearing the same robes as the man but only the designs were white and slightly less fancy. There were zombie and skeletons. There was an altar where a man was having his insides pulled out. At the back of the room there was a large throne made of Obsidian. It was on top of a large pile of skeletons and bones. The strange man had somehow already made it to the throne – as if by magic.

Nisseth made his way through the crowds and up to the throne. He only had a robe – no shoes or hand wraps – so some of the sharper bones cut into his hands and feet as he climbed it. He got to the top and stood in front of the throne. A large skeleton in armour pushed him forcefully down onto his knees. "Pray to me, Lord of Brutality, God of Schemes, Harvester of Souls. Give me your life and I will give you back a better one. Give me your blood, your flesh, your bones or your soul as a sacrifice. Your life will begin here with me. Your life will depend on what you give and what you ask for in return. And don't start any 'normal life' bullshit; we're long past that point. Pray to me now. Say the words: I offer to you, Great Lord, my… And then say, 'body' for flesh, 'heart' for blood, 'will' for soul and 'strength' for bones. And then add your own wants and wishes. Pray to me now child. Give to me your life!" Nisseth didn't know what to say, he didn't even know if he wanted to go through with this. "Or…Stand up if you wish to decline my offering. I will send you back to the first you heard those disgusting whispers and never bother you again." Nisseth couldn't go back, he couldn't.

"I offer to you, Great Lord, my heart. Take and accept my offering. Great Lord, in return all I wish for is magical talent and knowledge. I seek not money, nor power, nor love. I seek magical talent and an answer to a few questions, nothing more." He didn't know how to finish, so he just stopped there and hoped it would be OK. The Whisperer clapped.

"A perfect prayer. No selfishness, you just asked for what you've always wanted. Most take the chance for money or power when a Daedric Lord offers them anything they want. I accept your offering. I shall give you what you seek. Perfectly done. That was excellent. It is difficult to make a Daedric Lord smile but you have done it. Well, let's do the easier thing first. What would you like to know? Ask me anything." Nisseth was surprised and delighted. He didn't know how he knew what to say, it just came to him.

"OK, umm, what happened to Ygrag and Ymarri."

"They left the house and a pack of Vampires slaughtered them and drank them dry. Tragic." Nisseth was a little bit upset, but at the same time he was relieved.

"Oh…OK…Umm. Why am I so special?"

"Ah, a good question. There are few like you, very few. I knew you would pick your blood as a Sacrifice. You knew without knowing. You have magical talent all ready, you just don't…yet… I know it doesn't make any sense. You have potential. Your soul knows and sends you on a path. Your soul already knows what the outcome to each situation in your life will be. It knew that offering your blood will give you magical capabilities even if your brain did not."

"How?"

"I told it."

"So you used my soul to get me to you?"

"Yes, I needed someone like you beside me."

"But why? You answered about my soul and then said you told my soul to do that because you wanted me. But why do you want me?"

"It is because you have a heart of evil. You soul is twisted. Let me show an example of a pure soul." A perfect white orb appeared in front of Nisseth. It pulsed slowly and gently. It gave off a gentle hum. "And now, this is yours." The white sphere disappeared and was replaced by a misshapen black ring. It pulsed with an irregular beat. It made the same sound as the whispering that Nisseth constantly hears – he couldn't make out any of the words. It disappeared. "That is very useful to me. Anymore questions?"

"What do I call you?" Nisseth asked politely. The man thought for a moment.

"Schemer? Harvester? Mobal? Let's go with that, call me Mobal.

"How do I give you my blood? And can you show me how one would give their soul, flesh and bones?" Mobal ignored the first part.

"Of course follow me. There are all short procedures – but very painful." He led Nisseth into a room and there was a man who had offered his mind. "Very few offer their soul, strange. But I only need a few." One of the robed with the white designs held up a black stone. The man's soul was pulled into it and his body disintegrated. The stone exploded and a black sphere, with smoky tentacles flailing around, appeared. "Everyone's soul is different. He has an evil soul. His will most likely be used to corrupt innocence."

"Who are those people?" Nisseth pointed to the robed man.

"Ah. They are called Worms, they are my living thralls. Now, on to other rituals."

Nisseth was led to another room. A woman had offered her strength. A Worm chanted into 3 green stones. The woman's skin started to bubble and then it melted and dripped off. After about a minute her flesh, blood and muscle was all in a messy pile. A skeleton stood tall out of the mess. The Whisperer led Nisseth to another room. A boy, little older than Nisseth, had offered his body. A Worm cut into his head and chest. A white liquid poured out of both, the one in his head was mixed with grey. After about 30 seconds the pouring had stopped. The Worm cast a spell and the new zombie walked off groaning. "Now, it is time for the last one."

At the door the Whisperer stopped and let Nisseth go first. They walked through. There was a Worm standing beside an altar, but no subject. Nisseth turned to Mobal. Mobal grabbed him and cut Nisseth's robe off with one swipe from a cruel blade. Nisseth was standing naked once again. Mobal picked Nisseth up by the throat and threw him on the altar. Skeletal hands came out of the side of the altar and held him in place lying on his back. "This is my favourite of all of the rituals." The Worm put one gloved hand on the right side of Nisseth's chest. He pulled a twisted blade out of his robe with the other. He held it so he held the handle and the blade was pointing down towards the ground. He made ceremonial cuts on Nisseth's face, legs, arms and chest. He stabbed the left of Nisseth's chest near his neck and pulled the knife down through to his stomach. The blood poured out of him. The Worm put his hand inside Nisseth's chest and felt about. He grabbed hold of his heart and pulled it out. With the knife he severed all of the veins and arteries connected to it. The heart beat on. Skeletal fingers crept inside Nisseth's mouth and forced it open. The Worms forced the heart into Nisseth's mouth. The skeletal fingers slide away. Nisseth's heart sat beating in his mouth. He pushed Nisseth's heart a little deeper into his mouth and skeletal hands forced his mouth closed. He felt the pressure on his heart as it beat on. "I will wait at my throne ready for the last part of the ceremony." Mobal said before leaving. The Worm sewed Nisseth back up leaving ceremonial scars all over his body.

"Keep your mouth closed. You will know when it is the time to release it." The skeletal hands released Nisseth as the Worm said this. He walked back to the throne room. He kept his mouth firmly closed the whole time.

Nisseth entered the throne room. He saw Mobal sitting on his throne. Nisseth climbed up the hill of bones, it didn't hurt him this time. He reached throne. He was once again pushed to his knees. Mobal didn't speak but instead walked around Nisseth. Nisseth followed him around. He stopped after 4 circuits and stopped in front of Nisseth. He sat down and crossed his legs. Mobal put his hand into Nisseth's mouth and pulled out the heart and put it in his own mouth and chewed it. He put his finger into his mouth, took out a bloody finger and drew lines and symbols on Nisseth's bare chest and face. He swallowed what was left in his mouth and then stood up and lifted Nisseth up. He bit Nisseth's neck "The ritual is complete you have one final choice to make. You are now a vampire. I allow everyone a chance to remove 1 aspect of the Vampiric Curse; eternal life, weakness to sunlight, blood lust or Vampiric Magic. Choose now." Nisseth obviously wanted the magic, blood lust could be a problem. Weakness to sunlight is also a major drawback. His thoughts were interrupted. "Choose now."

"Eternal life." Nisseth replied.

"Really? Last chance to change."

"Eternal life. I want to live, get old and die. I don't want to live forever." After a few seconds of disbelief Mobal picked up his staff and slammed it into the ground. Nisseth heard nothing after this.

"Go forth, and spread the will of I, Molag Bal!" Nisseth vanished from Cold Harbour.

 **Thanks for reading! I am going to continue with this but I'm still trying to work on my time management. If anyone has any comments to make, questions to ask or requests to…request please do so, I will reply to all that require me to do so and I will certainly read all of them. I am still only starting out as a fanfiction author so any constructive criticism and compliments are appreciated. Thanks again.**


	2. Redux

Chapter 2: Redux

Nisseth felt himself falling through an endless black hole. He could see green and purple spirals rotating around giving the hole the illusion of a conical shape. Mobal spoke to him. You have much to learn and you will learn quickly but you cannot learn yet. You must lose your fear, leave it behind. You must mature, you are much too volatile and you must live. I command you to live. Go. Redux!"

Nisseth woke up. He got out of bed. He had light grey skin. He had black veins that were easily see able through his skin. He got out of bed. His scars were fresh and easy to see. It felt like home but everything was different. He searched his nightstand and pulled out a pair of shorts. He couldn't find any other clothes. He left his room. His mum was setting the table. "Good afternoon! You haven't been awake since last night. I started getting worried. Dinner is Vegetable Soup with Mudcrab dumplings and we have Apple Pie with Jazzbay Grapes for dessert. I'm putting it out now. Pour yourself a cup of Juniper Juice, your dad will be back any moment now." He poured Juniper Juice into a tankard. He only half filled it because he didn't know if he actually liked it. His mum went to the kitchen. His dad opened the door.

"Camilla, I'm back from the farm. Our potatoes are ruined but are cabbages are doing well." He looked down at Nisseth. "You're awake! I was starting to think I'd never see your red eyes again."

"Eorlund, dear, we are having Vegetable Soup with Mudcrab dumplings and then Apple Pie." This was weird. His parents were still Nords, still had the same name, looked the same but were completely different. Deurin, Nisseth's Bosmer brother came out of the cellar followed by Irideth, his Breton sister. They were both drenched in sweat. Deurin was carrying a bow and Irideth had a sword. They sat around the table and each filled up a tankard of Juniper Juice.

"Hey, Sleepy." Deurin said with a smile. "How ya feeling?"

"I'm fine. I'm just feeling a bit funny." He didn't want to say much more than because he didn't know what had happened – or what they thought had happened and had really been the Whispering filling in the timeline of the events in his life preceding the moment he left Cold Harbour. "What happened?"

"You were attacked by a Vampire. You contracted Sanguinaire Vampirism. Helskir said you are all better now." Irideth explained.

"Helskir?"

"The Disciple of the Tribunal." Deurin finished. Although Deurin and Irideth were unrelated by blood and were both adopted, like Nisseth, they were the exact same age to the day and they often finished each other's sentences or explanations. Camilla came out of the kitchen holding a tray of 5 plates. This hopefully answered Nisseth's burning question and hopefully wasn't by coincidence - Ymarri and Ygrag didn't exist in his life this time. Camilla sighed.

"Where has your father gone?"

"He's lightening his load." Irideth said.

"That a euphemism?" Deurin asked. They both laughed. Camilla rolled her eyes and Nisseth didn't understand the joke. "He's in your room putting down his gathering of wheat."

"Eorlund! Dinner!" Camilla called.

"Ok dear! I'm coming!" He called back. Deurin and Irideth erupted into fits of laughter again; Camilla just rolled her eyes again but couldn't help smiling. Nisseth didn't get what was funny that time either. Eorlund came out of the room he shared with Camilla and sat at the table between Camilla and Irideth. Nisseth sat between Irideth and Deurin. "Dig in!" Eorlund beamed.

After dinner Eorlund went back to the family farm. On their farm they grew any crops that were currently on demand and they raised: cattle, chickens, sheep, bees and fish. They were the richest farmers in Whiterun. "How come you are only wearing short, you not freezing?" Deurin asked Nisseth.

"I don't have any other clothes in my room."

"Oh, actually I think I remember some rubbish Helskir said. Something 'bout your clothes bein' tainted and that's why ya attracted the vampire. C'mon, I'll buy some clothes for you with the money I've made from giving Ykall archery lessons." They were at the door when Deurin stopped. "Wait, you can't go out like that. We'll go to my room first 'n' see if there's anything that'll fit ya." They went into the room Deurin shared with Irideth and searched through the nightstand and cupboards. They found an old, worn-out jerkin that Deurin had worn when he was little. It was a little bit small but it was better than nothing. "There. I don't have any shoes 'cause I don't wear any, sorry 'bout that."

"It's OK, this is enough. Thank you." Nisseth smiled, he was happy to finally have a brother that cared about him, the old Deurin did like Nisseth but he was too scared of Ygrag and Ymarri to do anything nice for Nisseth.

"Let's go. Mum, Nisseth and I are going to the market!"

"OK! Be safe!"

On the way there Deurin asked Nisseth a question. "You don't remember much do you?" This took Nisseth by surprise. "Ya lost some memories, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Number of things. The first thing was when I saw you had only half a cup of Juniper Juice, and saw you looking at it trying to work out what it was. You love Juniper Juice, you'd always fill your tankard to the very top. The second thing is that you used to have an interest in dad's farming; you'd ask him about every detail the second he came in. The third thing is you seemed surprised that I offered to buy you clothes. It seemed like something you'd never expected me to have done but the old you knew that I love you like a real brother and wouldn't even think twice about helping you." Nisseth thought about what Nisseth had said in silence. He was smart, although none of that was true; it was all made up by the Whisperer he had worked out that it isn't just that something wasn't quite right it was in fact so horribly wrong. They walked from their farm to the gates of Whiterun.

"Hey, you're that vampire kid. Don't go drink the blood of the Jarl." This made his heart sink. Had Helskir lied? Was he wrong? Then it sank in. The Whisperer made him a Vampire. He hadn't been attacked by a vampire and Helskir had never even met Nisseth. This was confusing and started to make him feel lost.

"Back off." Deurin ordered.

"Don't get aggressive with me, elf." Deurin pushed past him and opened the gates to Whiterun, he ushered Nisseth inside. They walked to Belethor's General Goods. Belethor greeted them.

"Everything's for sale my friends, Everything! If I had a sister I'd sell her in a second."

"Hi Belethor, got any clothes that would fit Nisseth."

"Of course. What clothes are he looking for?"

"Breeches, jerkin, boots." He looked to Nisseth, "That it?" Nisseth nodded. Belethor put a selection of each one on the counter and told Nisseth to pick one. He picked a green jerkin with black breeches and black boots. Deurin handed 80 Septims to Belethor and then led Nisseth out. They walked back to their house.

Nisseth put on his new clothes. They fit perfectly and were much more comfortable than what his last family had given him. He was sitting in his room reading a book called 'Kill or Be Killed' he saw sitting in his room. There was a knock on his bedroom door. Eorlund opened the door and poked his head in. "Mulak is back." Eorlund went out into the hall. Nisseth was starting to get annoyed. Mobal had given him a family and told him nothing about them or anything anyone had done. He kicked a chair and green wisps rose from it. They swirled around and then streamed into Nisseth through any hole they could find. He knelt down in pain. It faded. He remembered. Mulak was the oldest of his siblings; he was an Orc that went to fight for the Stormcloaks. He ran out to him. The others had already wrapped up their greetings.

"There he is! I heard about what happened. Are you OK?" Mulak asked Nisseth as he lifted him up.

"Yeah, I'm good, feeling better today." After their greetings and a few pints of ale for everyone Mulak went to bed to rest. Nisseth hated ale so he only had a few sips then handed his bottle to Deurin. After what he had done today and as a result of the memories that the Whisperer had just given him Deurin was definitely his favourite sibling. Camilla and Eorlund spent the night getting drunk to celebrate their son returning unharmed.

"You doin' much?" Deurin asked Nisseth.

"I was just going to read, I don't have anything else to do."

"Irideth and I are going hunting for tomorrow's dinner. Wanna come?"

"I would love to but I don't have any weapons or armour." Deurin smiled.

"Armour." He laughed. "We're not huntin' Dragons. And don't worry about weapons, I've got loads. I'll let ya pick one, or two if ya really want." Deurin led Nisseth to his room and opened his cupboard. He had a series of knives, a few swords, 2 axes and 3 empty slots that would have held the bow and quiver of arrows that were hanging from Deurin's shoulder and his most trusty sword. Nisseth picked an axe and a sword. Irideth had a battle-axe and a sword. She named her sword Vein and her battle-axe Artery. Deurin had his bow and a sword. They left. Irideth and Deurin led Nisseth deep into the woods. Deurin stopped suddenly and raised his hand. He turned to Nisseth and put his finger to his lips. Nisseth stood still. Deurin walked forward stealthily forward. He took his bow off his back. He pulled an arrow out and held it against the string of the bow. He pulled it back and took aim. He held it for a few seconds then put it down. He pointed up. Irideth picked up a stone and hurled it at the trees. The bids flew out of it and any trees near-by. The deer looked up. Deurin took aim quickly and released it. The arrow hit the deer in the eye. It collapsed and whined. Irideth ran over. She unsheathed Vein and slid it into the deer's throat. After one last whine the deer lay still. Nisseth felt like a dead-weight. He borrowed some of Deurin's weapons and hadn't used them. He felt out of place. He heard a growl. He couldn't work out where it was coming from.

"Deurin! Deurin!" Nisseth hissed as loudly as he dared.

"One minute." Deurin called back.

"Shh! There is something here, listen! Irideth walked over to Nisseth. She stopped when she heard the growling. She put away Vein and took out Artery. She approached what she believed to be the source of it. There was a loud roar and a thick, hairy, black arm smacked Irideth and sent her tumbling back 2 metres.

"Shit! Deurin! Troll!" Deurin forgot about the deer and aimed an arrow. He saw the shadows in the bushes shift and fired off an arrow. He hit it from 20 metres away. It roared in pain. As Deurin aimed another arrow the Troll decided it wasn't doing itself any favours by hiding and burst out. Irideth swung Artery at it. It punched its way into the Troll's arm but the Troll just swiped Irideth away leaving Artery wedged in its arm. Nisseth raised his axe and brought it down between the Troll's shoulder blades. Its arms went into a short spasm. It turned around and swung its arm at Nisseth. Its arm missed but Artery's handle hit him in the jaw knocking him to the ground. Irideth got up as Deurin shot two more arrows at the Troll. The Troll charged at Deurin. It barrelled into Irideth on the way and knocked her down as if she was an unstable stack of crates. She went unconscious. Deurin waited for the last second and then rolled towards the Troll. It walked right past him giving Deurin valuable seconds. Nisseth was still 15 metres away. The Troll turned around, picked up Deurin and threw him to the ground. He landed with a thump. The Whisperer spoke to Nisseth again.

"Now. Release your magical potential and save your brother." Nisseth tried to summon a Firebolt. A small flame flickered but it didn't last for even a second. He tried again, but nothing happened. "Fire doesn't always shine the brightest." His master told him. He tried to summon lightning – the supposed easiest element to harness. He couldn't do that either. He tried to create an Ice Spike. He felt the air around his hand chill as his hand curled around something. He brought it close to his chest and the cold intensified. He outstretched his hand and forced his fist open. A large shard of ice shot out and grazed the Troll's back. His accuracy would require attention. He curled his hand in and tried to form another Ice Spike. It didn't work a second time around. He was furious. Irideth regained consciousness. She ran forward screaming. The Troll faced her and swung its arm at her. She ducked under it, caught Artery and ripped it out. As Irideth fought the Troll, Deurin fought for life. He had wounds all over his face and chest. Nisseth was trying every spell he knew hoping for a second glimmer of talent. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He curled his hand and felt something appear in it. It felt solid but he knew it would part if something was put through it. He released it unsure of what would happen.

"What the fuck is that!?" Irideth screamed. Nisseth opened his eyes. He saw a woeful sight. It was a 9 foot tall demon. It was tall but skinny. It had pale grey skin. Parts of his body were covered in inky, green tentacles and other parts were covered in green moss-like growth giving some parts of its body a considerable amount of bulk. It swung its arm at the Troll and large tentacles stretched out a whipped its back. The Troll ignored Irideth facing the obviously bigger threat. The demon spat a ball of acid at the Troll hitting it in the chest. It howled in pain. The summoned demon opened its mouth and 3 long tentacles flew out of it and punctured a few centimetres into the Troll's chest. The demon disappeared in an explosion of tentacles. The Troll stumbled around for a few seconds then fell to the ground. Irideth cast Heal Other on Deurin and closed his wounds. He was still weak and sore so Irideth helped him up, put his arm around her shoulders and supported him as he hobbled to Nisseth.

"What the hell did you just summon?"

"I don't know. I didn't mean to summon it, I just wanted to use a spell and be helpful."

"Ya bloody were! That Troll would have killed us all. If you hadn't got your buddy to kick its ass when you did Irideth mightn't have had time to fix me up. I wonder if we can eat this." He stabbed his sword in the Trolls back and pulled it out again. He examined the sword. The Troll's blood was lumpy and had a green tint. "Nah, foul. At least we've still got the deer. Only problem is gettin' back." Even in dire situations Deurin's lazy way of speaking made Nisseth feel comfortable and a relaxed.

"I'll get it back." Nisseth said. "You just worry about getting yourself back." Deurin looked at Nisseth with bewilderment obvious on his face, but he wasn't in much of a position to oppose it.

"OK, if you think you can." Nisseth concentrated hard, this time he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He closed both fists. He took a deep breath. When he released it he slowly started to open his hands. He waved his hands about slowly in a way that made him look like he knew what he was doing; his hands always stayed close to his chest and made slow, long, wavy movements. After about 10 seconds he slammed his hands together. 2 Skeletons crawled out of the ground. They picked up the deer and carried it over to Nisseth.

"Lead the way." Nisseth said/

When they arrived at the house Nisseth had to dispel the skeletons before they entered. Irideth opened the door. "We brought food." Deurin said half wincing as he spoke.

"Deurin are you alright?" Camilla asked.

"He's fine, just got roughed up by a-" Irideth started to explain but she realised she would have to explain how they killed it if they did. She looked at Nisseth.

"A Troll." Nisseth finished for her. Camilla looked at them astonished and then laughed. She stopped after a few seconds.

"Oh, you're not joking. Come, I'll give you your Apple Pie and Herbal Tea to help you recovery." The kids sat at the table and Camilla brought out 3 slices of Apple Pie – she had already eaten her slice – and 4 tankards of Herbal Tea. "Ok, tell me everything. No, wait. Give me the highlights. No, ok, tell me everything." They children told her about their trip to the forest, the deer hunt, the growling, but Deurin and Irideth both looked at Nisseth before telling much of the story regarding the Troll. "How big was it?" Camilla asked.

"10 feet tall, arms the size of us and strong enough to uproot a large tree." Nisseth said.

"However did you bring down such a beast?" She asked.

"Well it was mainly Irideth. She fought like the Companions themselves. After a hefty swipe she was knocked out but after less than a minute she was back up and back at it. She dodged weaved and struck in its exposed shots. Deurin was constantly firing arrows at it until he was wounded. And I, well, I didn't do much. I grazed its back with a badly aimed Ice Spike and couldn't even muster up another one." Camilla looked at the children. She didn't believe it. There was no way a worse-than-Novice's Ice Spike, a few crappy wooden arrows and a few hits with a badly built iron Battle-axe could bring down a Troll. She had heard stories of them killing entire caravans of people.

After the group had finished their story and answered their mother's questions they went to bed. Irideth helped Deurin hobble over to their room and she helped him into bed. Camilla stopped Nisseth as he was about to enter his room. She led him back to the table. "What really happened?"

"You don't believe us?" Nisseth replied knowing there was no way out.

"3 Kids don't just kill a Troll. These monsters kill 20 men at a time. You smell like a swamp and Trolls tend to stick to dry, forest-y areas. And there is no way you could have carried that deer, Deurin was too hurt and Irideth was helping him.

"Someone helped us." Nisseth replied vaguely. He wasn't sure how she'd react to him being a summoner.

"Nisseth no more games." Nisseth sighed. Camilla could tell he looked uncomfortable.

"I am a summoner. I summoned some weird monster to kill the Troll and then 2 skeletons to carry the deer." Nisseth said but immediately which he hadn't.

"Nisseth! I said the truth." Camilla said trying to keep her voice low as everyone except Irideth was already asleep.

"It is the truth."

"I believe in a 12 year old summoning demons less than 3 kids killing a Troll." Camilla said truthfully.

"Well, it's the truth. I'd show you but I don't know if I could summon the demon again. I don't know what it is; I just closed my eyes and cleared my mind. I could probably summon skeletons again; I knew exactly what I was looking for when I summoned them." Camilla thought about this for a second.

"OK, show me. We'll go outside. You are going to show me: The dead Troll, your skeletons and this demon thing." They went outside and back to the forest. When they game across the Troll it was just a pile of misshapen bones in a pool of a red, grey and green, bubbly liquid.

"I don't understand! We killed this about 40 minutes ago! These things take months to rot and a day or 2 to even start!" Camilla wasn't sure if she believed him or not, this was too convenient to be true but at the same time he sounded sincerely surprised.

"Show me your skeletons." Nisseth concentrated hard. He focused on the thought of raising them. He curled up his hand and released it. Sure enough a skeleton popped out of the ground. Camilla gasped. "Holy shit!" Nisseth had never heard Camilla swear. She used to be a Vigilant of Stendarr and now she was a house wife and a farmer. "Get rid of that vile thing!" Nisseth commanded it away and it fell apart. "I'm not sure I want to see any more but show me your demon." Nisseth concentrated hard again. He cleared the skeleton from his mind and focused on the picture of the demon. He curled his hand as before and when he released it nothing happened. He tried once again…twice…three times, still nothing. He tried again and again. Camilla was losing interest when a large dark blue sphere with light blue swirls appeared in front of them. A similar demon to the one from before walked out. Camilla turned white. "Get rid of that right now! Dispel it! Banish it! Get rid of it!" Nisseth was confused, for an ex-Vigilant of Stendarr his mum sure scared easily, maybe that's why she left. Or maybe the same thing that made her leave made her scare more easily. He walked over to his mum. She was breathing heavily. "Do you know what that was!?"

"Not really, some sort of weird Troll? Swamp Troll? Is that even a thing?" Nisseth had no clue what it was.

"That was a Lurcher. They are the minions of the Daedric Prince of Fate, Knowledge and Memories, Hermaeus Mora. His Lurchers are never seen out of his realm in Oblivion, Apocrypha. For you to summon that you must be a very powerful summoner and he must love you very, very much." This made loads of sense to Nisseth. The Whisperer must be Hermaeus Mora. He had let Nisseth change and choose his own fate, he given him memories that never happened before in a split second and he gave his mind knowledge that was impossible to get, it knew the future and how to change it to get what it wanted. It's weird though. He had read about Soul Shriven and how they were the slaves of Molag Bal. And Mobal called himself the God of Schemes and the Lord of Brutality, not God of Fate, Knowledge and Memories. But now wasn't the time for that. What was a Lurcher?

"Why did Hermus Mora give me one of his slaves?"

"Nisseth! Firstly it's 'Hermaeus Mora' secondly there are not his slaves. If he's letting you summoning his Lurchers he is listening and watching you all the time, you are lucky he didn't incinerate you for calling one of his Lurchers a slave. We have to go home now." They rushed home. "Bed, now. We will work this out in the morning."

 **Hope you enjoyed reading! Any thoughts? Post them bellow!**


	3. The Darkest Morn

Chapter 3: The Darkest Morn

Camilla waited until Eorlund had gone to the farm and Deurin and Irideth had gone hunting – this time as sport – before she woke Nisseth. She sat in a chair near his bed and sighed. "We need to talk."

"Seems so." He replied sleepily. "Who is Hermus Mora"

"Hermaeus Mora." Camilla corrected him once more. "Nisseth, he is a Daedric Prince. He is extremely powerful and I dare say there is not a thing in this world that he does not know."

"Daedric, huh? And what exactly does that mean?" He asked quizzically.

"As an Elf you should know that. It goes back to the stories of how Mundus came to be, but Daedric basically translates as 'non- ancestor'. They are considered to be the most evil forces known to Man or Mer." She replied slowly.

"And what does this Daedric person want with me?"

"Nisseth, this is a dire situation. He is a Daedric _Prince_ and his name is Hermaeus Mora. You must show him respect if he is taking such an interest in your life. You've been acting very strangely since the vampire incident. I need you to tell me exactly what happened."

Nisseth hesitated. He decided it was best to tell her, so he opened up leaving no detail out. Camilla sat silently and listened, her face occasionally changing from one of horror, surprise and worry. When he finished there were a few moments of silence.

"Follow me." Camilla said at last. Nisseth quickly threw his clothes on and then followed Camilla outside and around the back of the house. "On the evening of the vampire attack I received this letter. I thought nothing of it at the time, but given what you've just told me I think this is important.

" _You have something that belongs to me, and I would very much like it back. It is very dear to me, you see. Your previous interception of the 'package' will not go unpunished, however I am prepared to relent if you put things right and return it to me. I know you and I still feud but we agreed to not steal things that have already been marked. I know how you can be, however it did surprise me that you did such a thing. I advise you to be wary of two things: do not believe that returning him to me will free yourself from my wrath as I see you have already tried to taint and corrupt that which rightfully belongs to me. But also do not be under any illusions of the gravity of this situation. Whatever happens, you will get your comeuppance._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Knowledge._ "

"How is that important?" Nisseth asked.

"At first I thought the same. As I read on I assumed it didn't apply to because of the " _you and I still feud_ " since your father and I get on with everyone. But based on your story… Well, there's only one entity that could rightfully identify themselves as " _Knowledge_ "."

"Why would Hermaeus Mora send us a letter?"

"Well, he wants back what is dear to him." Camilla replied uneasily. "Have you ever met Hermaeus Mora in a dream, or in a book?"

"No." Nisseth replied confidently.

"I can piece together most of it except for the feud bit."

"Maybe he sent it to the wrong place?" Nisseth suggested hopefully.

"Nisseth, the Daedric Prince of Knowledge does not so simply make a mistake. If it was really sent by Him then it was meant to come here, and based on the courier I'd guess it was – but I'd rather not go into that."

"Well, clearly Hermaeus Mora and Molag Bal are both involved." Nisseth said trying to contribute anything he could to solving the mystery.

Camilla gasped. "That's it! You said you heard a whispering before you met 'Mobal' and he sounded completely different afterwards?" Nisseth nodded. "And the whispering gave you an insight of both Magical and past knowledge?" Again, he nodded. "Nisseth, I think Hermaeus Mora must be the Whisperer."

"But what about Mobal?"

"It doesn't make sense for him to be the Whisperer, from what you've told me they seem completely different – preferred colours, impact and actions on your life. This means that both Molag Bal, or 'Mobal' as he introduced himself, and Hermaeus Mora want you, and Hermaeus Mora is very upset that Molag Bal somehow got you first."

"Maybe the… Lurcher?" Camilla nodded reassuringly. "Is the thing he was writing about?" Nisseth proposed.

"No Nisseth, because even Molag Bal wouldn't be able to corrupt a Lurcher. Nisseth, I think he was writing about you."

"Well, then why would he be accusing you of stealing me from him if it was Molag Bal?"

"Well, there's a possibility, just maybe, that Hermaeus Mora did make a mistake. If there's one thing he didn't know it would be the affairs of another god. Maybe, since you… surfaced here Hermaeus Mora thinks this is Molag Bal's lair on Mundus. But, as I've said before, the Daedric Prince of Fate and Knowledge does not simply make a mistake. Perhaps Molag Bal is part of the reason the letter was sent here."

A black orb appeared and black swirls lined with red magic surrounded it until it was big enough to cover a troll. The swirls receded leaving the shape of a human before they completely vanished revealing Molag Bal himself in a mortal form. A look of horror dashed across Camilla's face. Nisseth did not react. "It would appear I'm out of time. Must act quickly." He reached out for Nisseth.

"No!" Camilla shrieked. She grabbed Nisseth and pulled him away. Molag Bal was stunned.

"You dare defy the will of Me, Molag Bal!? Stupid mortal!" the sound of this shook the house and the neighbouring farms and forest. Black swirls surrounded Camilla and picked her up in a magical tornado. Red energy started pouring out of her and was grabbed by Molag Bal. At this moment Eorlund rushed around the corner.

"What's all the commotion!?" He demanded.

"Shame… You should have stayed out of it!" Molag Bal yelled before doing the same to Eorlund. Nisseth was shocked. His face drained of colour and his eyes took on a hollowed-out look. It all happened too quickly for him to take it in. His eyes grew wide with terror. The Whisperer spoke to him.

"Do not be afraid, vessel. You will be safe." As soon as this was said, green-black, inky tentacles burst through the ground and grabbed Molag Bal.

"Ack! Worms!" Molag Bal cried out in frustration as 4 Worms appeared in 4 separate puffs of red smoke. In an explosion of tentacles on either side of Nisseth, 2 Lurchers walked forward to combat the worms. Each worm pulled out a small dagger with a serrated blade and varied spells in their free hand. The worm on the right summoned 2 Flame Atronachs, while the one on the left summoned one Storm Atronach. The two middle Worms readied Lightning Bolts in their hands. The Lurchers strode purposefully to meet the attackers. The Storm Atronach struck first. It sent violent arcs of electricity towards the Lurchers. The Lurchers powered through them, not even flinching. When it was about 6 metres away the first Lurcher swung out and a swarm of green, inky tentacles punched through the Storm Atronach, taking the Worms by surprise. The Lurcher retracted the tentacles leaving a pile of dark, dull runestones and rocks on the floor where the Atronach had died. The second Lurcher continued on towards the two centre-most worms. They hurled Lightning Bolts at the closest Lurcher but no avail. The two Flame Atronachs engulfed the close Lurcher in a blazing stream of fire. The continuous stress caused the Lurcher to slow which gave the two Worms under threat some breathing space. They each surrounded themselves in Fire Runes and each cast a Flame Cloak. The other two Worms set to work on the other Lurcher. Because the closer Lurcher was slowed and weak, they developed a false sense of security. They ran at the further Lurcher and slashed wildly at it. It roared and spat acid at them. Their skin bubbled and dissolved, turning them into green piles of goo. Only flesh and bones are dissolved by the acid – which is why the Troll's dark hair was still intact giving the dissolved Troll a black-green colour – so the Worms' robes fell loosely over and covered the piles of goo. The Flame Atronachs had managed to kill the first Lurcher. The second Lurcher ran forward, and the two remaining Worms smiled confidently. The Lurcher walked straight into the Fire Runes setting them off killing it – and the Worms who stood among them. "Fools!" Roared Molag Bal.

"What do you want with me!?" Nisseth screamed at last.

"You have power. Power that can be useful for me." Molag Bal replied.

"Useful? Why? What can I do that a Daedric Prince cannot?"

"Stay in Mundus. As I'm sure you've gathered, I am not at full strength. Entering this plane weakens me – that is the way will all Daedra. Having someone over here working on my behalf would be marvellous."

"Don't listen to him." A calm and slow voice called out. Nisseth looked towards the direction from which the sound came, just in time to see a mass of green-black, inky tentacles seemingly burst out of nothingness. A number of eyelids opened amongst the tentacles. Molag Bal sighed.

"Why?" Nisseth asked.

"All Molag Bal wants is to destroy man-kind. He is not able to do it from Oblivion and not powerful enough to do it from Mundus. He wants to give you a portion of his power – larger than what he is left with upon arrival at Mundus – so you can destroy Man and Mer from here."

Molag Bal sighed, "That's not entirely true. I-"

Hermaeus Mora interrupted him. "It is. I know it is."

Molag Bal sighed, defeated and there were a few moments of silence.

"So… What do I… Do now?" Nisseth asked finally.

Hermaeus Mora and Molag Bal both looked at each other. A wall of blue flames erupted from the ground behind Molag Bal. An oval on the inside of it cleared to create a still image of a barren land. There were dead trees, zombies, skeletons and Daedra walking about. There were streams that were polluted with some dark energy and the ground was grass-less. He was looking at Cold Harbour.

Behind Hermaeus Mora a wall of green-black, inky tentacles appeared. Some were vertical; some were horizontal, some at any and all angles you can imagine. The tentacles folded back to reveal a gap in the middle which showed an even stranger land. There were books _everywhere_ : scattered over the floor, in messy piles, on alters and even _flying_. Some walls were made out of books. There were stretches of some liquid that was the same colour as the tentacles, and every now and again a large tentacle would pop out of the rivers, if you could call them that, wave about and fall back in, never creating so much as a splash.

"Now you choose." Hermaeus Mora and Molag Bal said at the same time.

"I will give you the powers you asked for – Vampirism" Molag Bal said slowly. "But so much more than that. I will make you a powerful Necromancer. You will be immune to the sun's draining affects, make you able to read and change other people's emotions… create Thralls so you can feed at will. An army of undead and mindless thralls will be at your command. You can travel quickly as a swarm of bats or become immune to your attackers as a swirl of mist. You will be able to drain your victim's life essence!"

"I will give you knowledge beyond your wildest desires. Anything you wish to know will be yours; you could ask anyone in Mundus anything, and you could know what they are going to say before they had said it. I can also offer you forbidden knowledge. Knowledge that you cannot find anywhere else – be it Mundus or Oblivion."

Hermaeus Mora's offer seems more convincing. Nisseth slowly stepped over to Hermaeus Mora. His clothes gradually become more and more translucent, but as they did a different set of clothes from underneath became more opaque. It was a robe, or sorts. The clothing material only consisted of boots, shorts, gloves, a mask and a sleeveless-robe. The robe only covered his back. There were holes for his arms and from the front of it 2 thick strips of cloth than ran down the sides of him – leaving his chest completely bare. But as he stepped closer something seemed to cover the exposed parts of him. They were wooden tentacles – stiff and sturdy. He moved closer still and the tentacles began to soften and take on a green-ish colour.

"Wait!" Molag Bal cried out. "I can give you your family back!" Nisseth stopped at once and ran over to Molag Bal. The new robes faded out with the fading in of his old clothes overlapping.

"He is lying." Hermaeus Mora said. "I would know." Nisseth stood in the middle. He couldn't tell who was lying, because one of them had to be. He stood between them. Stunned into a silent still. None of the spirits or gods in existence could tell him what to do next.

 **(I'm back, sorry this is so short, just wanted to get something out – check my profile for updates.) Not entirely sure which side for Nisseth to take. If you'd rather see Nisseth join one over the other then tell me through PM or the reviews.**


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